


The Sunny Side of Dark Romance

by Delenn (goddessdel)



Category: Xena: Warrior Princess
Genre: Drabble, Drabble Collection, F/M, Ficlets, Fluff and Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-03
Updated: 2013-02-03
Packaged: 2017-11-28 00:37:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 13,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/668279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goddessdel/pseuds/Delenn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of individual shorts, based on the lighter side of the relationship between the Warrior Princess and God of War. Most are PG, but one or two are PG13 or R, so that's why there's a high rating. They're all appropriately labeled.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Expressions of Love

_Expressions of Love. PG. July 24, 2005. 340._

It wasn’t so much that the woman intimidated him. Normally, he found strong women at worst intriguing and at best irresistible. But this woman represented a path previously un-tread and a possibility previously unimagined. No, she didn’t intimidate him - she terrified him.

At this point, by all previous rights, he should have turned tail and fled. As a matter of fact, that sounded like an excellent plan. He turned.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

There she was, the reason he was going through this torture-experiment. Intriguing, intoxicating, irresistible. And blocking his escape route with a raised eyebrow and expectant quirk of her lips. “Well, I was – I was just-“

Her hand slipped into his. “Nothing, it was nothing.”

When she smiled, he was momentarily blinded by the way her blue eyes softened. Distracted by her lips.

Before he could step closer - act on the fantasies musing through his mind - she'd turned back towards the roughened wooden door.

He steeled a will that she would never fully appreciate, following her steps. The door swung open and there stood the woman – with an axe. Oh for the love of Zeus. “Hello, Cyrene.”

The woman at his side smiled weakly, a little wide-eyed but hiding it well. Brushing them inside and ignoring the tension of the situation. “Hey, mom. Are we early for dinner?”

Sharp eyes switched from him to the wide-eyed-but-smiling woman at his side – reluctantly setting the axe down and shrugging as the door swung shut. “No, I was just about to bring in some wood for the night. Xena, why don’t you go, and Ares and I can talk.”

As Xena offered an apologetic shrug and went after the aforementioned wood, strategically taking the axe with her, Ares vowed to remind her of this evening every chance he got. Beyond any shadow of a doubt, this proved it – he loved her to the point of absolute insanity.

Dinner with Xena’s mother: more frightening than Hades’ pets. At least his parents had the decency to be dead.


	2. Timing

_Timing. PG-13. July 24, 2005. 249._

Waves crashed through their consciousness as lips moaned and leather rubbed harshly together. Water splashed and rocks scattered. Skin bared inch by inch until everything just… fit… leather and metal being tossed roughly aside. Kisses of passion coating whispered promises.

Rustling in the far bushes, so quiet but echoing in meaning to honed senses. An important pause. “Xena?”

Strong arms pushed out and, with a huff, Ares rolled to the side, lying tragically against the ground as Xena sat up, breathing harsh and eyes panicked as she choked out, “Just a… just a minute. I’m coming.”

Ares snorted and she hit him lightly, already pulling her leathers back towards her and scanning the perimeter of the lake for the rest of her armor. “A little help here?”

Rolling his eyes, he snapped his fingers, now fully dressed and more than a little frustrated. “Why don’t you just tell her to go away?”

Thankfully adjusting the last of her armor - which had been so easily replaced as a second skin - and sighing, Xena muttered, “I know her timing is horrible, but you’re a god - you’ll live.”

Both stood quickly, as Ares tried desperately to refrain from the million retorts he could think of. Anger wasn’t the emotion he was looking to inspire at the moment. He took a step closer, “Xena-“

Cutting him off, it was actually Xena who closed the distance, catching his lips mid-sentence for a deep kiss. Only a second though, and she pulled away, “I’ve gotta go.”


	3. Expressions of Love: Timing

_Expressions of Love: Timing. PG. July 25, 2005 – October 24, 2005. 686._

The last would-be-warlord hit the ground with a heavy thud, adding to the already impressive pile littering the dusty ground. A cold glint to her eyes, Xena warned, “I’d find a new line of work, if I were you. Next time, I won’t be so nice.”

A small nod was all that the thug could manage before he passed out in an unseemly mess.

Clapping sounded in the distance. “Magnificent as always, but hardly worth your time.”

Slowly turning around, Xena took a deep breath, surveying the scene. Gabrielle was busy helping the merchant pick up what little of his wears hadn’t been destroyed in the fight or broken by grabby, grubby hands. Reclined against a nearby tree, Ares stood, unconcerned with the situation in front of him. “Greece doesn’t need more petty thieves preying on old men.”

Far from put off by her harsh tone, Ares straightened and came closer. “Of course not. But all you’ve done is made more enemies. Being beaten up by a girl isn’t going to turn their lives around. Neither will Blondie’s inspirational speeches about right and wrong.”

“And what would your solution be? Kill them?” Stung, Xena took a step back and averted her eyes. “No, I’m not having conversations of morality with you, Ares.”

Irritated at the heavy, redemptionist tone to Xena’s voice, Ares bit back, “What, you don’t think I have morals?”

“No,” before he could retort, she amended, “I’ve seen plenty of evidence of your _morals_. They’re not to my taste, or, for that matter, most humanity’s.”

Refusing to let this conversation degenerate into another useless verbal sparring match, as enjoyable as that might have been, Ares stepped closer and set his hand over his chest, changing the mood. “I’m stung, Xena, really. But my morals aren’t the issue here.”

Spinning angrily, she finally met his eyes again, “Oh, did you come to regale me with false promises, or just to threaten the lives of my friends?”

“I came,” careful to keep the angry edge off the words, “to warn you that your little friend,” a half-gesture at the topmost body on the pile, “happens to be the uncoordinated brother of a rather hapless, but well-armed, king.”

A smirk, “Nothing new, Ares. But, if it helps, you’ve filled your good-deed-quota for the year.”

Rolling his eyes, Ares didn’t manage to keep the annoyance out of his voice; “It will be something new, when the king has you strung up for treason and his guards, courtesy of Apollo, hold you there. Perhaps, you might consider not going straight into his kingdom for a while.”

“Ahh, I didn’t know you cared.”

Of course, she knew the right buttons to push. Ares lunged forward smoothly, grabbing Xena by the arms and hauling her closer to him. “Damnit, this isn’t a joke, Xena.”

It was as close to a yes as she was going to get, and Xena knew it. Whether the king and his guards really would be a problem or Ares was just exaggerating, he was serious - that much was obvious.

A glance behind her and Xena realized that Gabrielle had moved further up the road with the merchant, just barely out of sight and too busy talking to care. And Ares looked so absolutely frustrated with her, his normally calm exterior excited in his annoyance and urgency.

She was getting too tired to fight like this. And, just like that, the anger was gone, leaving in its place a dull acceptance. Ares wasn’t purposely there to anger her – Xena’s own bad mood had been enough, even before his presence. His grip on her was relaxing as he took a few deep breaths and noted that she wasn’t pulling away.

Xena sighed, “Thanks,” her eyes caught his and, for a moment, she thought that he was going to say something else.

Then, gruffly, his hands released her and Ares motioned down the road without looking away from her, “Just… just don’t go that way, okay?”

It wasn’t a declaration of love. It wasn’t even close. But, as Ares disappeared, they both reflected that it was a start.


	4. Family

_Family. PG. August 7, 2005. 655._

He wasn’t following that goody-goody path. He wasn’t. Okay, so maybe the thug had technically deserved it – or else Xena and Gabrielle wouldn’t have been involved in the first place.

And so what if some helpless old lady had been saved in the process of beating the guy up? If anything, she’d been an afterthought, and the afterthought had only been a moment – that she’d obviously been smart enough to get out of the way.

If he’d given her back her stuff (through the always helpful roundabout channel of Gabrielle), it was only because ripping it out of the thug’s hands had been most enjoyable.

It was much more Xena’s trip – not his. He didn’t have delusions of a guilty conscience to make him try to right all the injustices of the world.

He knew that nothing would right all the unfairness. Nobody said life was easy – mortal or immortal.

Of course, he’d admit that mortals had a harder time – it was actually doing them a favor when they died. Hades always was kind to his patrons.

If anything, the only reason that he’d been there in the first place was because Xena was caught off guard and could hardly be expected to stash the brat in a bush while rushing into the fray.

Not that he’d been watching her, per say, just that he’d been about to pop in for a chat when all tartarus had broken loose.

Maybe he’d even caught the creepily quiet thing, in the ensuing round of pass-the-sword-pass-the-kid. Xena still knew how to get her kicks, apparently.

Gabrielle had held her own quite nicely, so he hadn’t bothered to take any of her opponents, but that one thug.

That one thug had just been asking for it.

Couldn’t even have been a quality warlord – no, just one of the thousands of beta-class ruffians. If he’d managed to even so much as nick Xena (because obviously she would have still managed to kill him – baby or no), it would have been shameful.

It was always kind of exhilarating being on Xena’s side – especially when she shot him that surprised and amused look.

Of course, she’d probably managed to take offense anyway. When the blonde was around, Xena never could take a joke.

When she walked up to him (after checking on Gabrielle and reclaiming Eve), he wasn’t sure what to make of the look in her eyes. Not a look that Xena normally wore. “Ares.”

She was right in front of him now, standing as tall as possible with the baby on her hip. “Xena.”

Then she did the strangest thing – she picked Eve up in her arms and leaned forward, holding her out. He blanched – not one for babies, even his own.

“Thought it was time that you and Evie got properly introduced,” she raised one sculpted eyebrow and extended her arms again. “Don’t make me regret it.” There was a challenge to her voice.

Maybe – maybe for her, hers, he could make an exception. Gently taking the baby into his strong arms, amazed at how such a small thing could be causing so much trouble.

Eve blinked for a second – looking like she might burst out crying. Must have changed her mind because she reached up one pudgy little arm and attempted to grab his pendent.

Couldn’t quite reach it. And then she really did scrunch up her little face. He laughed, lifting her higher in his arms so that she could reach the shiny metal. “That’s a girl.” More laughter. “She really does take after you, huh, Xena? Can’t keep her hands off me.”

Carefully, Xena closed the foot gap between them, so that she was almost-but-not-quite touching him. Looked down at her baby and up at him. Gave her little half smirk. “Yeah.”

When he looked up from the baby and back at her, he just knew. Exactly what it was that he’d never got before. “Yeah.”


	5. Age-Old Wisdom

_Age-Old Wisdom. PG. August 30, 2005. 463._

It wasn’t like he’d tried to keep it a secret from her – she’d always known who he was. From the way his clothes looked poured on to the bloodlust he just screamed in battle, she’d known. _God of War._

Sometimes, though, she forgot all the little details. What with how glaring and obvious the big ones were, the little ones hardly seemed to matter. _Bloodthirsty, murdering, manipulating…_ Apparently one part of her brain hadn’t properly received the memo.

Yeah, _God of War,_ but mentally she could feel the tacked on _it’s just Ares._ She’d always known him as the God of War, and she’d never noticed the little things more.

She’d always laughed when people told her that aging was supposed to make her wiser – but now she was being hit over the head with little truths that she didn’t see how she couldn’t have realized.

A passing comment: _’Is that priest… drunk?’ ‘Ahh, Poseidon’s parties always were a bore.’_

It was easy to forget what wasn’t quite real to her – the gods, their demise, had always been only a small spot on her mind. They didn’t deserve her respect – never would – so why trouble herself with focusing on them?

They’d never seemed solid before. Eternal, passing through, playing with mortals for their own damn amusement, sure… _’Apollo wouldn’t come out for a year when that temple was destroyed…’_ But she was starting to realize that they’d… been…

They’d been for millennia.

And now they weren’t. Sands of time slipping through immortal fingers and she couldn’t even begin to grasp the concept of millenniums of life. Wondered at the wisdoms lifetimes could teach and how it could all go so wrong.

_’Hey, wait… you’re Ares, aren’t you?’_

Stiffening, _’Yeah…’_

 _‘Should have known… I’m your,’_ disgust, anger, _’son. Guess it doesn’t matter now, huh?’_

The boy _man?_ had walked away and it had just caught her so off guard. How many children? All of them, abandoned, uncared for, left as poor reminders of petty gods…

When he turned, his look stopped her. _’How many years?’ ‘Enough.’_

She didn’t think she could begin to understand having lived so long… to have seen so many hopeful lives, watched them die in what must have seemed like seconds. To play a role billions of times over and be stuck with the same part _father, death._

He looked away, angrily brushing past her anticipated retort with a crinkled brow and clenched fist. “What was I supposed to do? Sick them on each other like dear old Zeus?” What all that wisdom in age amounted to.

And even though his leathers were long gone, Xena thought that, maybe for the first time, she was seeing the clearest picture of _Ares_ \- the god and the man – that she’d ever known.


	6. Snapshots

_Snapshots. PG. October 24, 2005. 296._

Honestly, Gabrielle couldn’t understand why she continued to be so caught off guard by Xena’s surprising revelations. It wasn’t like there hadn’t been a thousand others.

Every time, she reminded herself that she’d never know everything about Xena’s long and sordid past. And that, mostly, that was the way it should be. There were some things that even best friends didn’t need to know.

Somehow, though, she’d imagined that these last few years had been played out right in front of her. That everything current or new, Gabrielle knew about.

It took the most about faces to remind her that life took place behind the scenes, not in the mainframe.

And this, this was one revelation that Gabrielle had found out without a heartfelt confession (and, thankfully, without the accompanied near-death experiences). All the covert looks and half-veiled smiles had finally registered.

A little click, and Gabrielle remembered that Xena’s life was anything but out in the open.

All the kisses, longing looks, weakened denials, and Gabrielle had finally caught on. Before Xena had. That had to be the kicker right there because, of course, Xena had no idea.

Watching the tail end of a fight play out, catching only half of the argument, Gabrielle could see it, even if Ares couldn’t and Xena wouldn’t. And, if it shocked her, Gabrielle figured that she had only herself to blame.

Paying such close attention to what she could see, sometimes, Gabrielle forgot about all the moments she didn’t. It was like piecing together snapshots of the picture frame, only getting a bleary view of the full show. But, still, she’d figured it out.

“What?”

Careful, she hid her grin under nonchalance at the biting tone, wondering just how long it would take before the picture came together.


	7. Bites

_Bites. PG-13. December 27, 2005. 638._

"I mean, I know that I must have offended the God of Rabbits, but did it really have to bite me?" Her steps checked with a limp, Gabrielle reentered the campsite and rubbed angrily at the swollen bite marks on her ankle.

Startled by their abrupt and noisy appearance, Xena straightened up and resumed sharpening her sword.

Trailing slightly behind Gabrielle, weighted down with their combined kindling, Joxer inquired, "Is there a God of Rabbits?"

Flashing into existence, Ares reclined on the log immediately behind Xena. She stiffened but kept her gaze stoic. "Actually, I'd imagine that's Artemis' area. Cute, furry woodland creatures... yeah, that sounds like sis all right."

He looked like he expected the goddess in question to appear and smack him for the comment but, when nothing happened other than Gabrielle's glower, he simply shrugged.

"Rabbits are not cute, they're vicious and..." instead of finishing her rant, Gabrielle narrowed her eyes suspiciously and abruptly changed her subject line, "What are you doing here, anyway?"

"None of your business, Blondie," Ares shot back.

Xena's eyes widened slightly, but she maintained her silence.

His question answered, Joxer deposited the wood to the designated fire pit and clonked to the ground next to it, casting occasional, nervous glances between the other three occupants of the clearing.

Irritated, probably by the fact that Xena was steadfastly ignoring Ares' presence behind her rather than throwing him out, Gabrielle bit out, "Oh, don’t you have a war to start or something?"

As Gabrielle flopped down on her bedroll to closer examine her injured leg, Ares took advantage of her diverted eyes to move his hands. "Nope." Xena swatted him away with a glare.

Deciding that the best course of action was to ignore him, as Xena appeared to be doing, Gabrielle merely scoffed and turned to Xena, "Would you look at this? I think that rabbit might have been feral."

Dutifully, Xena got up, casting only a raised eyebrow at Ares, and went to attend to her friend's wound. The bite marks did look vicious and hardly the work of a rabbit, but Xena knew the history between Gabrielle and rabbits and so she didn't question it. "Haven't had any mysterious nutbread lately, have you, Gabrielle?"

But Gabrielle was staring fixedly at Xena's cleavage. Xena was used to the occasional glances at her breasts, from everyone, and so she wasn't immediately unnerved. But, when no reply came and Gabrielle's eyes remained unmoved, even Xena had to question, "Gabrielle?"

"What's that?"

Startled at the faint voice of her friend, Xena glanced down. At this angle, leaning over Gabrielle's foot, perhaps a bit more cleavage was apparent than normal, but nothing indecent. There was, however, one abnormality - a reddish mark that had all the appearance of a bite.

Hastily, Xena sat back, hands instinctively going to adjust her armor. "That's... uh..." Her eyes darted towards Ares, who was looking much too smug.

Gabrielle caught the look, trying out possible explanations besides the obvious and coming up with none. "Xena, you're flushed."

It seemed that Ares was finally registering Xena's death glare, and he moved to the defensive, sitting up and gesturing toward his vest. "Hey, she bit me first."

There was a sigh and a large thump.

Three sets of eyes turned to find Joxer passed out next to the newly started fire.

Xena narrowed her eyes at Ares, "Now look what you did."

The God of War simply raised an eyebrow in response.

Gabrielle took a deep breath, rolled her eyes, and announced in a long-suffering way, "Gods..." before casting Xena a dirty look that suggested she had no desire to know the details and moving to slap Joxer awake.

For his part, Joxer was dreaming of a hundred little Gabby-bunnies all snuggling up to him. There was definitely biting involved.


	8. Tantrums

_Tantrums. PG. March 30, 2006. 510._

Xena blinked.

The vision before her didn't change.

There was Ares.

There was Ares with Eve.

There was Ares playing with Eve.

And looking entirely too comfortable doing it.

Xena wasn't sure entirely what she'd expected Ares to be like around babies, but she was pretty sure she'd had doubts. Now, she was hard pressed to remember what they were.

A glance at Gabrielle confirmed that her friend was in a similar state of open-mouthed shock.

Ares was good with babies. Really, really good.

Xena had been pretty confident about her own skills - she was a good mother - but it had never seemed that easy.

Somehow, she was sure that she'd never hear the end of this.

All babies had tantrums; it was a fact of motherhood that Xena was growing accustomed to. But, apparently, Eve was willing to forego said tantrums for Ares.

It boggled the mind.

He just looked so ... comfortable ... so natural with Eve in his arms, letting her rub her sandy hands against him and pointing out the waves in the sea.

Eve seemed enamored.

And then! And then he got down and let Eve crawl in her tilting way, his hand hovering easily above her, and they played in the sand.

Xena pinched herself.

Not dreaming.

Wondered if there was any easy, telltale way to determine if one was in another reality.

"Ares?"

He blinked up at her against the sun, sweeping his arm out to scoop Eve back up before she could sneak off on him while he was distracted. Didn't seem to notice as she attempted to chew on his vest.

And Xena, suddenly, was at a loss for words. She doubted that anything would be able to convey her feelings. "I had no idea…"

He stopped her there, thankfully, as Xena really had no idea what her next words would have been. "You don't know as much about me as you'd like to think, Xena," his gaze was so intense that she couldn't break off her own.

Finally, it was Gabrielle who broke the silence of waves lapping the shore and gurgling baby sounds. The power of speech had returned to her, albeit not in great force, "Don't you have somewhere to be?"

Xena and Ares broke their glance, the trance lifting, and he smirked. Glanced down at his vest and gently pried Eve off of it. Set her back down in the sand and sighed, "Children are just so enchanting, aren’t they?" His voice was sarcastic, "And drool is so hard to get out of leather. Oh, well."

When he disappeared, Xena was tempted to pinch herself again, wondering if she'd just imagined the whole thing.

Suddenly set back in the sand, Eve blinked up at the sunlight, felt a cool wave against her foot, and let out a bloodcurdling scream. Her tiny little fists pumped the air and her face scrunched up into a scowl.

Gabrielle rushed forward to comfort the child, who would have none of it.

Xena sighed.

Back to the tantrum, it was.


	9. Training

_Training. PG. July 22, 2006. 400._

"Oww, what the-" Abruptly the angered cry was cut off, in favor of, "Xena, she hit me!"

Turning to the commotion, Xena gave a stern glance at the sulking God of War and grinning bard. One of Gabrielle's scrolls was lying at Ares' feet, he was rubbing his head irritably, and Gabrielle was fiddling with her saddlebags. 

She sighed, addressing the bard - there was no way she'd get an accurate account out of Ares, especially when he was pouting. "What did he do?"

Refraining from the urge to stick her tongue out at Ares' outraged look, Gabrielle replied cheerily, "He's been rifling through my scrolls again. They," she glared, "were in chronological order."

Cutting off Ares' exclamations of protest and/or innocence (with the extreme possibility of fireballs being formed) with a raised hand and trying to keep a calm demeanor, Xena continued, "And why did you hit him?"

"I'm training him." Gabrielle gave a little smirk, which was too reminiscent of Xena's own.

Ares was irate. No, he was beyond irate. The insult was too high to simply incinerate her - he'd have to think of an appropriate punishment. "Training me?!" He was the God of War and who did that little Blonde think she was?

Stunned, Xena raised a sculpted eyebrow, trying to discern if Gabrielle was telling a really bad joke. "Training him?"

"Yeah. I thought that I'd encourage him when he did a good deed." Gabrielle frowned, "But that was too hard." She smiled again, "So now, every time he does something stupid I chuck a scroll at his head."

Xena was floored by this logic. "Well, that's... one idea..." She caught the hurt puppy-dog look on Ares' face, "But really, he might be a bit old to be teaching new tricks." If there was sarcasm, Xena kept it carefully masked in her normal voice.

Gabrielle shrugged, dumping her scrolls out on her bedroll to reorganize.

For the thousandth time, Ares reminded himself that Xena would be _quite_ unhappy if he reduced her friend to a pile of ash. Brushing past Xena to glare at Gabrielle from the other corner of the clearing where, hopefully, she couldn't hit him with any more heavy pieces of parchment, Ares spoke, voice low, "I like your methods better."

Eyes going wide, Xena turned quickly to avoid Gabrielle's curious gaze and any potential blush that might be blooming. Training indeed.


	10. Anger Management

_Anger Management. PG-13. October 3, 2006. 741._

Storming through his temple, Ares watched with a detached sense of glee as the priestesses fled from his path. It wasn’t often that the God of War was angry enough to demolish something almost before he’d fully appeared in the mortal realm. 

Discord and a few other minor gods were milling about to pester him with questions and petty squabbles. "Careful - I heard that Dad’s going to put you on more restrictions if you wreck something important again."

Thankfully, only three lightening bolts aimed at her head were enough to convince her to leave with a huffy, "Told you so," and let Ares back to his rampage.

Not that it was much of a rampage. He wanted a bloodbath; he wanted heads on pikes and matches to the death and whole battlefields of bodies. Something… just something.

People literally disappeared in an attempt not to get caught in his path, as he made his way through room after room. Offerings were thrown off the upturned table in the throne room. Swords and weapons snatched out of the armory, only to find themselves embedded in walls but moments later. Tapestries were ripped from hooks and bolts thrown through mirrors, walls, anything that might have been moving. It was a tantrum the likes of which Ares indulged in rarely. Of course, when he did, it was always for a good long time.

Teach Zeus to put him on restrictions… and after what Athena had done? That was really the blow in itself - he was actually in the right and it didn't even matter. It never mattered. Not with his family - he'd always be the one who could be conveniently blamed for whatever problems happened to occur. But to be _grounded_ \- it really was too much of an insult to be borne. And the God of War never had been any good at taking insults lightly.

Halfway through the temple, Ares paused to direct a few choice curses and bolts at the ceiling, hoping that Zeus would get the meaning, if not the action itself. And kicked open the wide double-doors to his bedchamber with renewed fury, listening to the crack of wood against the walls and preparing to collapse somewhere with a plentiful supply of ambrosia and mead. And maybe just a small bloodbath to cheer him up because, for all his anger, there really wasn't much one could do in the face of a direct decree from the King of the Gods. "Fucking Zeus."

"Well, if that's really what you have in mind…" drawled a sarcastic voice from deep in the shadows of his room, "But I was thinking of something a little different."

Of course it was Xena; her voice was unmistakable. Deflated, Ares turned toward the sound, more than curious at her presence. "Zeus is being his usual stuck-up, self-centered-"

And she emerged, dressed entirely more casually than he was used to and looking like she was trying really hard not to laugh. "I figured, assuming that that ruckus of cursing and destruction came from you."

Ares shrugged, sprawling out on his couch easily, his mood suddenly much improved.

Continuing her motion forward, Xena came right up to him, right up close, until her very presence almost drove him up and into her arms. A soft smile graced her face, the kind that was genuine and caring and that he rarely saw directed at him. "I know better ways to cure you of pent up energy."

"Oh?" And, if he was a little breathless, Ares wasn't going to argue the point, since she was _here_. Very much here.

Xena nodded, taking him by the hand and pulling him up. Effortlessly, she kept her eyes pinned to his while she navigated backwards, back to the darker recesses of the room where his bed was waiting. "Unless, of course, you're too angry to relax."

Finally pulled out of his stupor, Ares grinned, "Angry? My dear, I can't even remember what was bothering me."

"Really?"

"Really." Now he was definitely the one leading them backwards. "I'm much more curious as to why you're here."

Backed up against the bed, Xena sank down amongst the cushions mischievously, "Maybe it's a fantasy," her voice was a deep purr.

Cocking his head to one side to regard her, Ares finally nodded, diving amongst the bedding and whipping her around. "Maybe you missed me."

Her kiss spoke volumes, though her reply was quiet. "Maybe."


	11. Intertwined Fingers

_Intertwined Fingers. PG-13. October 4, 2006 - October 21, 2006. 472._

They had all the time in the world, wasn't that the saying? All the time. Except when it mattered most. Except _right now_. Now there was no time, no time at all.

Because everything hinged on the next few seconds, on whether she would go and what he would say. It was their world and, right now, it was in deadly jeopardy of collapse. They faltered.

"Ares, I have to do this."

He blinked, irritated, and purposefully refused to let her go the way her eyes were silently begging him. "No, _Xena_ , you don't."

For just a second, her eyes softened, "Ares," she took a step forward, one hand reaching up to rest against his cheek.

Closing his eyes, he leaned into the touch and waited for the rest of a sentence that never came. Instead, his name hung there in the air, heavy with the weight of all the words not being said with it. His hand caught hers and he moved them down, moved her closer - not letting go of her hand. "Xena."

His voice was deep and firm and husky, accusing where hers was retreating. With them there was hardly anything else to say - nothing but biting insults or stinging retorts because that was all they ever did. Neither would change their minds and anything but a name would surely spark a fight with enough electricity to tear down walls. Sometimes, actual walls.

They stayed like that for several minutes, minutes that reminded him of centuries. Locked in a silent battle of wills, eyes firm and feelings harder.

Ares was the one to look away first, tasting the familiar bitterness that her stubbornness always brought. As soon as their eyes broke, Xena took the lone step toward him that crossed off all distance. Body pressed against his, encased in their world, she brought their hands back up while his mouth claimed hers for a kiss that spoke the passion of parting.

Trying to glue their world back together with violence and blood and sex and whatever worked.

Gasping, they broke apart, hands still intertwined. He glanced down at those roughened hands clasped together, wondering. Opened his mouth to speak and was cut off by her finger pressed against his lips.

Her hand squeezed his firmly and their eyes met again, too fatigued to be anything but resigned. This would not be a battle that came to insults or blows - it was only barely visible.

This was it then, it was decided. Ares sighed, straightening up and trying not to care that she was rushing out on some fool's errand, rushing out on them. She watched their fingers for a moment, savoring the hold that they shared. Slowly, she let her fingers slip free, and he didn't stop her.

"I love you," and then she was gone.


	12. Measures of Moments

_Equal Measures of Moments. R. October 22, 2006. 870._

Their world has always consisted of singular - often non sequitur - moments. It is as though too many emotions are pressing on them at all times, too many obligations and expectations and just... too much to process. So they process in moments, moments that can be radically different from the next.

 

She holds her sword out at arms' length, as though it will keep him out of her personal bubble. "If I could kill you," and the hiss of her words mean it.

He's sure she's killed for less. A smirk, "But you can't," and he steps forward anyway, brushing the sword away and she lets him.

The aforementioned sword clatters to the ground, as their radius of orbits becomes a singular unit, too close to be anything but electrically attracted to one another. The kiss is expected but not. For a moment they remain wrapped up together, caught with kisses and lies and possibilities.

He pulls away; flustered by the depths of feelings each kiss inspires him to. He never knows whether he wants to kill her or… well, usually he doesn't want to kill her.

Gasping, weakened and disgusted with herself, she doesn't bother bending for the token defense of her sword. Words were always a better defense anyway, especially between them. Wipes at her mouth, "Get outta my sight."

And, true to form, she can't look at him. Stiffening, irritated by her flat-out denials, his own rage manages to pop in at the worst possible moment. _She's already found better ways to hurt me…_ "Be seeing you, Xena," he spits out the promise nastily.

As soon as he's gone, her sword is slicing through the air, embedded in a tree inches from where he used to be. She has to bite her lip to stifle the scream that wants to well up in her throat and force her pulse back to normal levels at the presumption in his voice - at the way he says her name.

 

In equal measures of moments, sometime later and sometime before, they're wrapped up together amongst heavy furs and bright stars, trying to be quiet as lips taste and hands explore and everything burns but the words.

Harsh gasps and tainted kisses, but the only touches are meant to cause pleasure, not pain - even if the grips are somewhat punishing. And each relishes the control they gain when the other gasps and chews on a lip to keep from screaming.

Usually, she's on top. He flips them roughly over, with hardly a squeak considering the volume of movement, and she gasps, throwing her head back against the harshness of the ground and baring her throat. Smirking, he leans in to nip along the exposed column of flesh.

In retaliation, she pulls him flush against her, grinding her hips up, hands drifting along to clutch and scrape a back that never scars, and he groans.

From nearby, something stirs. They kiss to stop the gasps that want to escape, and they are caught in the moment where it is all worth it and too good to stop.

 

As his fist connects with her jaw, the harsh crack of flesh against flesh - bone against bone - assures them both of the blooming bruise even before she's ducked down and swept his legs out from under him. Landing with an 'oof' against the ground, he doesn't spare a moment to breathe before flipping back up to his feet.

They face each other with bared teeth as opposed to bare bodies, fists balled and fighting stances all mapped out as they circle each other. Lashing out at the same time, she catches him with an uppercut to the stomach that causes him to stagger back several steps, while he nails her in the side with a clean hit that topples her sideways.

Both regain their balance at the same time, and the cycle continues. Sometimes one or the other gets the upper hand, but it doesn't last for more than the flashes of moments they have always managed.

And when he finally gets her pinned on the ground, they both find themselves exhausted beyond remembrance of whatever insult spawned the fistfight in the first place. "Still wanna kill me?"

This time, his look is more mischievous than before. His reward is a small chuckle, "You wish."

Rolling his eyes, Ares pushes himself up and off of her, extending a hand, which she ignores. "Xena, Xena," she eyes him suspiciously as he crosses his arms over his chest, recovered already, "I'm a god."

Xena smirks her little half-smile, "And most men can only wish they had your ego."

"That's not all they wish…"

She rolls her eyes but bites back her witty retort. Now isn't the best time for another fight. They need a refractory period between moments. "Don't you have somebody else to make ill?"

With a shrug, he stubbornly refuses to disappear, "Just you."

They exchange a long glance as the moment shifts and they wait for the reset of moods. Xena sits down on an appropriate rock, reclaiming her sword to sharpen, and Ares leans against a nearby tree. Waiting for the other to make the first move.

Flashes of moments shifting and they are back to the beginning of the cycle again.


	13. Tasting Death

_Tasting Death. PG-13. Oct 24, 2006 - October 28, 2006. 342._

She's just walking over some old dirt road, alone for once, when she _feels_ him appear behind her. "Have fun in Japa?"

Cold, she stops but doesn't turn. "I died."

"Heard about that." The voice behind her is trying for casual, but she hears the slight tremor to the otherwise flawless bravado.

Goes for the kill. "And you weren't at all concerned. Right."

This time, she can practically see the shrug, but he's moving closer to her. "You always come back."

"Well, I promised, didn't I?" She puts as much sneer into her voice as she can manage.

And he's still unconcerned by her hostility. Or, at least, that's how it sounds. "Yep."

She sighs, tired. Tired of everything. "And I don't break my promises."

"Nope."

"Are you laughing at me?" Now her anger's back, played out expertly from his hands.

Hands that are currently resting on her shoulders. "I wouldn't dream of it, my dear."

"You are!" But he's won because in her anger she spins around to hit his hands away from her.

Blazing blue eyes meet their fiery brown counterparts. He smirks, shrugs again. "I just missed the violence of your presence."

"I knew you liked getting your ass kicked, but really." This time, she can't stop the half-smile that appears. It's refreshing to smile again. To be alive again.

"Well, you've been gone a while."

Now she's the one laughing and he's nervous, she can see it as plain as day. "Do we need to have the 'I was dead' conversation again?"

He stiffens at the implication. "Not really, no."

"Then what-" and she has a brilliant comeback all lined up and ready to throw out there…

When he stops her firmly with a kiss. The kind of kiss that they've always shared, the kind that engulfs her entire soul and spits back something new altogether. Only this time it's different, more important, because she can taste the terror on him, taste all the fears and longings that he's hidden away while she was off being _dead_.

"Oh."


	14. Variations of Conversations

_Variations of Conversations. PG-13. January 19, 2007. 836._

They have their best conversations without words.

They were never any good with words. No, that's not true. They're too good with words, too good at spinning them around and spitting them out and making them _hurt_. Just too damn good at hurting one another, at finding openings in defenses and swooping in for the kill.

Sometimes, it's better that way.

There are three basic variations of the theme, even if they, more often than not, devolve into vocal insults and reopened wounds.

 

Set the scene:

Xena and Ares. Sitting on an unsuspecting log, just a little too close to be accidental but far enough away to scream "issues!" at even the most common passerby. Xena is sharpening her sword, as she is wont to do when thinking. Ares is relaxed, head tilted up towards the sun. It is silent.

Xena glances over at him, pauses a moment, and moves from sharpening her sword to her daggers. Eventually, the breast dagger comes out. Ares raises an eyebrow. Smirks.

Enter Gabrielle. Not knowing the scene, she strides in, head down, mouth opened, already chattering away about some such nonsense. "... And you wouldn't believe..."

Straightening, Ares rolls his eyes. Xena looks up at Gabrielle, guiltily, over at Ares. Catches his rolled eyes and raises her eyebrow in response.

Gabrielle is struck by the volume of communication they do in complete silence, when he nods imperceptibly and disappears with a shrug. Guardedness slams down around Xena's face, and she sets the dagger and sharpening stone aside. "I wouldn't believe what, Gabrielle?"

For her part, Gabrielle can't remember what she was saying. Doesn’t have the heart to ask, _what was Ares doing here?_

Xena shrugs. Doesn’t offer explanations.

 

Later:

When Ares flashes into existence on this mortal plane, she opens her mouth to make some witty opening statement. A prelude to their normal banter and blows, if one will.

His lips cut her off, pressed smoothly against her own, his tongue taking dual advantage of her surprise and parted mouth to dive amongst warm depths. Startled, she allows it. Allows the heated explorations they spend far too much time engaging in with one another, as hands trace and grab too hard, for too long.

Due to his godly status, she's always left gasping when they finally concede to her mortal need to breathe. Even for Xena, breath is not entirely optional.

She raises an eyebrow, about to break the imposed silence, when she notices the intense look he's giving her. Instead, she quirks a lip up. It's all the invitation he's ever needed, more even, as he reclaims her mouth with his own.

At some point, both open their eyes and catch one another, saying more with a glance than they've managed in years. Civil conversation is never their strong suit. Not that the wonders spoken of behind heavily lidded eyes can entirely be considered civil conversation.

Not much between them comes with a PG rating. This encounter is no exception to the standard.

 

Strategic fade:

Of course, they do their best talking with swords and bruises of the physical kind. It's what first attracted him to her, that she could convey so much with a thrust of a sword. And he's war; he knows.

Their lighter fights, vague sparring matches, usually incorporate banter and barbs that sting worse than a near slice of sword on flesh. This, this is a fight to a higher level, a stalemate that requires too much concentration for words. It's all the better for the silence.

A flick of a sword, a feint back, a dodge, and a sweep - they all say more than Ares and Xena have ever been able to communicate vocally. It calls to them, this exhausting mantra through blood and sweat and bodies trying to break one another. Born of the bloody truths of war, this is their world.

It's almost peaceful, this dance that neither will really win. Thrust, parry, block. Smirk, gasp, shrug. It's what draws them together, in the end, this silent communication that they have no means of expressing. It's calm, soothing even, in its reassuring violence.

Eventually, swords lower. They stand across from one another, panting out exertion, and his slight grin says, _oh yeah, that was fun._

Xena darts her tongue over a split in her lip. _Wanna go again?_

Ares laughs. _Insatiable._

Swords picked back up with sparkling eyes. _I know._

_And I love you for it._

She takes the offensive to ignore the clarity in his eyes. Laughs at the shock of metal against metal reverberating in her skin, as he blocks her sword with his own. They hold there for a moment, locked together, before she spins out and takes up a defensive stance.

_You're gonna have to say it._

The clash of metal against metal reminds them both that he can't. Xena doesn't really want to know. Ares doesn't really know how to begin.

Here, between the length of their blades, it's all too plain to be spoken.


	15. Omens

_Omens. PG. January 19, 2007. 455._

A terrible tingle ran up Ares' back. He paused, mid-word, startled, and disappeared from whatever warlord he was berating, without more than a cursory thought about it.

"Xena?"

He spoke before he'd exited the aether, trying to catch his breath and surroundings at the same time. It'd been too long since he'd looked in on Xena, if he didn't know roughly where she was.

Wherever she was, it wasn't here, wherever here was. "What the-"

That tingle was never wrong. Every time Xena got herself into dire trouble, which was more often than he was really comfortable with, it appeared. Made keeping track of her near-death experiences so much easier (they were up to twenty-three this moon, really, a rather impressive feat). Not that he was counting.

Surveying the clearing, Ares couldn't find any noticeable danger present. Had twenty-three proved too many for even his senses to handle?

There was a splash from the nearby brook. Xena, drowning? Now that was just absurd. He was really going to have to talk to her about this death wish she had, even if they weren't on the best of terms at the moment. If this was some kind of joke... With a long suffering sigh, Ares leaned closer, reached into the bubbly area, and clasped hold, pulling to safety...

The baby?

Ares blinked. Eve sputtered in his grasp, spitting out water most unattractively and squirming quite actively considering her recent underwater status.

The God of War and Bringer of the Twilight stared at one another for a few long minutes, while the distant sounds of clashing weapons filtered through the clearing. With a sigh, Ares pulled the baby closer, waving a hand to dry her off and clean her up, and squinted at her. She felt warm and chubby and tiny.

"Well, how about that."

It had never occurred to him that this irritating presence might have inherited enough of Xena's being for something like this. "You're just messing up all my plans, aren't'cha."

The sounds were moving closer. He'd probably be called terrible names if caught there, alone with the precious Destroyer of His World. Eve coughed, and a little drool made its way onto his vest. Ares grimaced, "Try not to get yourself drowned, Kid. It'd be embarrassing if I rescued you all the time. Got an image to keep up with the family, ya'know?"

No response was forthcoming, but the tingle was gone. Ares wandered over to what appeared to be her playpen and set her into it, not at all surprised that Xena's daughter had managed to escape it. He used his best God of War voice, "Now, stay put."

Xena rounded the corner, eyes wide and concerned, just seconds after he disappeared.


	16. Daring Escapes

_Daring Escapes. 799. PG. February 1, 2007._

"Ares!" Xena hissed, voice low, eyes darting suspiciously around the foliage in case someone was spying beyond her range of hearing. Again. "Ares!"

Appearing as was customary, arms crossed and face settled into a sarcastic stance, Ares opened his mouth and found Xena already shushing him. "Wh-" lowered his voice to a whisper at her look, relishing the opportunity to invade her personal space in order to be heard, "What?"

Until now, his appearance itself hadn't usually caused offense - well, at least, not when invited.

Xena yanked him closer, dragging them behind a tree - just incase. "Let's go."

Since she was obviously ignoring his growing confusion, Ares didn't budge. "Where?" This time, he was careful to keep his voice on the same microscopic, tiny level that Xena was using.

"I don’t care!" Only Xena could make a whisper sound just as angry and forceful as her normal voice. She was panicked, this much was obvious. Darting from side to side to peak around both him and the tree nervously, all demanding and worked up.

He was tempted to just go with it. Whisk her off to one of his palaces and see just where this was leading. Unfortunately, the War God in him was more intrigued by the idea of finding out what had made the great Warrior Princess turn tail and flee. Used his best sarcastic voice, "Not like you to run from a fight."

"I'm not running-" Xena cut out angrily, only to be interrupted before she could get that far.

Compared to the whispers they'd been conversing in, the volume of the cry that echoed through the woods was downright impressive. "XENA!"

Wincing at the tone, and glowering at Ares for good measure, since he'd failed to follow even such simple instructions, Xena reluctantly stepped out from behind the tree - making it clear that he was to stay put.

Making himself invisible, Ares hazarded a glance.

Coming through the trees with thunderous noise was Gabrielle. She waddled right up to Xena and frowned irritably, "I cannot believe you made me come find you, Xena! Where'd you run off to anyway? I turned my back for two seconds and you were gone."

"I thought I heard something. I was worried about you." Xena was still flustered and it showed.

Gabrielle narrowed her eyes, crossing her arms over her pregnant form, "We're in the middle of nowhere. There aren't any bad guys out here to fight. And yet you keep 'hearing' things."

Caught, Xena looked sheepish, or as close to it as she got. "Did you need something?"

"My feet hurt and so does my back and that herb you gave me is having weird side-effects and I made breakfast - fish and fruit and that rabbit from last week - but you really need to catch more fish anyway and..." she paused for breath, switching her glare to her stomach, "and he keeps kicking me!"

For a moment, Gabrielle looked absolutely pitiful and Xena was almost sucked back in. But enough was enough - if she'd had any idea what Gabrielle would be like in a full-term pregnancy, Xena would have left the bard with her parents! Perhaps it was due to the fact that Gabrielle was now nearly as wide as she was tall? Xena dearly hoped that she hadn't been as tyrannical while pregnant.

She loved Gabrielle, she wanted to take care of her and help her, but, stuck in the 'middle of nowhere' with no way to blow off steam, Xena desperately needed a moment to herself. "Wake Joxer up?"

"He ran off to get firewood."

"Well-"

"Xena!"

Any possible excuse that Xena could have muttered was cut off by Xena's abrupt dissipation into the aether.

Blinking, Xena found herself wrapped up in Ares' - now visible - arms, apparently someplace exceedingly sunny. "That was smooth."

"What, I didn't know there was a time limit." Ares shrugged, sliding Xena around in his arms until she was facing him. Her frown wasn't very convincing.

Her lips quirked up, "What's the point of having you around if you can't even follow directions?"

"The point is that I can whisk you off on dream vacations and the bard can't blame you even a little." He raised an expectant eyebrow.

Finally, Xena's stance relaxed slightly. "Who knew someone that little could be so scary?"

"The Warrior Princess is afraid?"

"Tartarus, yeah!"

Recalling the vision of an angered and enlarged bard emerging from the trees, Ares had to admit that she had a point. "I'll try to whisk first, ask later next time."

It was probably the closest he'd get to apologizing, especially over something fairly trivial. Xena smirked, catching his lips for a chaste kiss before breaking free to explore their 'vacation' spot. "We'll see."


	17. Re-minted

_Re-minted. 573. PG. April 18, 2007._

His fingers brushed against her cheek with the barely constrained power hiding behind his fingertips, just like always. An involuntary breath left her at the motion, so intimate between them. "Heya, stranger."

But his mask was set, his mood hard to gauge. "Hey, yourself."

The words were teasing, with an edge that was different from the banter of old. She responded in kind. "You've been gone a while."

"Have I?" The shrug was easier to read, a combination of too casual and just a little pondering. He really hadn't been paying attention.

It had been too long.

She took his hand, this time, holding it between her own with a grip that was as strong as her will. "I've missed you."

His gaze shifted, too intense and too fast, "Wasn't the same without a little power behind it all? I didn't have enough bite for you?"

Startled, she recoiled. For a moment, his eyes softened, apologetic, and then they resumed their hardened stance.

There was a pause in the normally fast-paced barbs they exchanged because there was something old to this, and something different. 

It was a step backwards, and not one she was sure she wanted to take. It only took a moment though, for her defenses to subvert her heart. "Maybe life was just easier without having my own personal stalker."

A classic smirk, a tilt of his head to acknowledge the hit, and he was leaving. She was going to let him, too. Sparks of light were already flaring up around his re-minted, godly form.

"What were you doing?"

Her voice stopped him short. For a moment, the light faded down and there he was, just like always, staring at her with the same intensity she'd come to expect from any of his forms, "Adjusting."

The flash of pain that ran across his eyes told her everything. "Oh."

And, just like that, they let it go. She let herself sit on the cool evening ground. After a thick moment, heavy with the silences, he sprawled out next to her, eyes looking anywhere else. Idly, he watched the power crackle over the tips of his fingers - the same fingers that had so recently brushed across her cheek. She eyed him warily for a moment, waiting to see if a fireball or lightening bolt would be formed.

He crushed the light in his palm. "I've always been... I've always _been_. Now... I don't know who I am anymore."

She bit her lip, watched the struggle play out over his tense body, even in so relaxed a pose. It was all a front, always. "Welcome to the club."

A bitter noise escaped him.

The fingers brushing against his arm were startling. He looked up and met her eyes. "Xena..."

She shushed him with a soft kiss against eternally perfect lips. Let her hand slide down his arm and scooted in closer. "I doubt I'm any better at this philosophical stuff than you are. But, it might be quicker to figure it out together."

Because he was different, she could see that. While it made him uncomfortable, it reassured her that she had made the right choice. It was just like always, he felt just like always, but at the same time - he didn't.

Shifting, he pulled her tighter against him, he two of them reclining in the grass together and, expelling a deep breath, Ares let himself relax. "I've missed you."


	18. Philosophy: Unsaid

_Philosophy: Unsaid. 1,580. PG-13. Complete June 16, 2008._

Philosophy.

It was stuff better left to bards and wonderers.

Philosophy was nothing like reality.

Cold, hard steel pressed against skin, now that was reality. It was a reality full of violence and bloodshed and pain, but it was real. Realer than any symbols scribbled against parchment, crammed together, busily trying to make sense of that steel-filled moment.

And yet...

And yet, she found herself staring at those symbols, willing them to impart some long lost knowledge. Wishing, as happened more often than she'd care to admit, that she'd been gifted with any ability to write at all.

Many skills aside, bringing words on paper to life was not something Xena had ever excelled at. Probably because she'd never been much inclined to try her hand at being a bard. Never felt like describing the particular sting of failure in a fight, which burned worse than any wounds inflicted.

Some things were better left unsaid.

And yet...

And yet, she found herself pouring over old parchments, wrinkled and torn from the wear of many hands, hoping to find some... hoping to find whatever it was that had been lost from that childish handwriting, rambling on endlessly about birds and nature and the evils of rabbits.

Though Xena had long known that most of her life was better left unsaid, Gabrielle had refused to accept that. Spouting off some philosophy or other about how life was beautiful and deserved to be immortalized on paper - even if camping under the stars could have its more trying moments.

When had Gabrielle, too, found that the only things in their life were things better left unsaid? When had she stopped writing?

Xena felt like she should've noticed. But she had been too distracted with practical realities; too busy worrying about Gabrielle's safety, even more now that she fought at her side, to worry about her philosophies.

Xena's only philosophy had been: kill 'em all. (Later modified to: hurt everyone that was like me really, really badly.) All that stuff about the Greater Good, that was Gabrielle's words and philosophy expressed through Xena's reality.

And yet, here she was, trying to find new philosophies out of old ones, and doing entirely more poetic thinking than she was used to. There wasn't even a sword and sandstone at her side to keep her mind company.

And yet...

And yet, of course, she wasn't alone.

"Wanna hear all about me rescuing a bunch of orphans and kittens?"

The flash of light materializing next to her was accompanied by the expected snort of derision. Without even turning her head, she could see his expression - all aghast at the very idea. "It's all sappy drivel and badly written action scenes. I'm sure my sister would love it."

She wasn't even surprised that he'd read them. "Oh? Then why have you been reading over my shoulder."

Now she turned to look at him, instantly wishing she hadn't because he was staring at her as though he could see her inner turmoil - written out as plainly as the Greek on the parchment. "No. Wondering what has the Warrior Princess waxing nostalgic for her adventures... What was it? Saving orphans and kittens?"

Xena folded up the parchment and offered a smirk she didn't mean. "Maybe I just like messing with your head."

"Oh, my dear, we learned that a long time ago." He paused and, instead of delivering the lewd remark that undoubtedly wanted to come, mused, "I didn't realize you spent so much time agonizing over philosophy."

Bit out, "Peaking in my head again, didn't you ever learn -"

"Didn't have to."

His point was well made. And Xena sighed. "Does everyone turn out like us?"

He tilted his head at her, waiting for an elaboration and, begrudgingly, she continued, "Does it always end up being nothing but blood and guts and war?"

He laughed in genuine amusement at her question, "As the God of War, I'm morally obligated to tell you that it is."

Xena raised an eyebrow, "When has anything about you ever been moral?"

Seeming to consider this, Ares offered a short nod at her point, "In that case. No. You've seen enough brainless peasants that couldn't pick up a sword to save their own lives. You should know that."

When the God of War was questioning your sanity, it was a bad sign, Xena decided. She turned away from him with a short nod.

His sigh was exasperated and drawn out, as though this were an argument they'd had many times before and he was tired of repeating it. "So this is about The Blonde, then?"

"Gabrielle." It was habit to correct him. "And... no. It's... why are you here?"

He was in front of her again. She hated when he did that. "Here, as in, why am I standing in this ridiculously mundane field, chatting about Blonde Bards? Or here, as in why do mortals even need an entity of war to exist?" He chuckled, "Xena. If everything were about war, I would've ousted Dear Old Dad from his throne a long time ago, don't you think?"

Startled, she looked up. Caught the concern in his eyes. "When did you start getting all philosophical on me, War God?" If this was a joke, she was going to hit him, very hard, for all the good it would do.

Ares shrugged, dropping to his haunches so that he was nearer to her level, "What? I've existed for millennia, Xena. Sometimes I get bored and think on it all. But it's rather depressing, so then I go and kill something to cheer up." He peered at her, expectant, "Wanna go kill something?"

"No."

Shrugged again, "Didn't think so."

Xena felt her lips quirking into a smile despite herself. "Ares, God of War, who has existed for millennia, is here just to cheer me up? Am I hearing this right?"

He pulled her up before she had a chance to duck out of his grasp, dragging her through the field and aether in one swoop. "That's right, Warrior Princess. I exist for you." His tone was joking, but the words struck Xena as not.

Had she not been so busy being pissed that he'd just up and yanked her through the aether, it might have made her pause. Instead, she twisted away, pushing him off of her and flipping back until they were at a reasonable distance, sword drawn. "Then, if I close my eyes and wish hard enough, will you disappear?"

Lunging towards her in the offensive, he smirked, "Now, I'd never believe that." Their swords clashed with the reassuring reality of steel on steel.

At the same time, Xena had a flash of how surreal this was. Being whisked off to some unknown - beach? Sand was crackling under her feet - place by the God of War for a sword fight. "Never that easy, eh?" She didn't have time to consider it long because they were already gearing up into the fight.

"Not with us." He dropped low and swept her feet out from under her, "Distracted?"

Coiling back, Xena sprung up and away from him, taking a moment to rebalance and go for the offensive. Despite herself, she was feeling better. "Just wondering where we are."

He dodged a particularly nasty high kick. "Now, that would ruin the surprise."

With a mental click, Xena felt her world consolidating again. Flipping out of the way of an attack and rolling back, against the sand, brushing the crashing waves and feeling the sweet chill of the water. Vowing vengeance and, the next round, it was Ares hitting the water, muttering something about wet leather that she couldn't care less about.

There was a certain flow, the unexpected almost expected, so that Xena had to fight at laughter as he shook off water, sand clinging to his beard, trying to glower but looking anything but the part. She had to fight off laughter until she found herself up in the air, hitting the water with a hard break - just barely enough time to arch herself into something resembling a dive. 

Coming up sputtering out of the water, feeling the philosophy drip off of her as the spark of air sent her adrenaline pounding, and he was right there, just as she half expected. No longer were there any complaints about wet leather and rough sand. She reached up to brush the sand off his face and the contact stopped them both.

He was smirking, that cocky look he always got when he thought he'd bested her. His hands drifted towards her waist, below the water, and there wasn't a need to tread water any longer. They could have been on the shore for all the difference it made. Ares drew her closer. "Still want to talk about philosophy, Xena?"

She really didn't. Even though this was edging towards a whole new philosophical debate. And yet... "I thought we had all the time in the world?"

If he had a smart comeback, she didn't wait for it. Wrapping her legs around his waist and crushing their lips together, reveling in the warmth of their bodies against the cold water. Against the shock of changing the rules of their little impromptu encounters. Pulled back and offered her own little smirk at his stunned expression.

And yet, as their lips were reunited and the aether flashed around them... and yet, it was a reality better left unsaid.


	19. Thrones

_Thrones. 1,471. PG-13. September 6, 2008._

The hallways were too empty. Open doors leading to rooms full of grand statues and devoid of life. Her boots made too much noise treading the heavy stone, but there didn't seem to be any way to quiet them. Or maybe she just didn't want to. She told herself it was never good to sneak up on him, especially not in a situation like this, but maybe she just wanted to remind herself that she wasn't a ghost... walking these long hallways of nothing, it was easy to forget.

No wonder she was here. This hollow silence was enough to drive anyone mad.

The very thought made her uncomfortable, and she wanted to take it back. Could feel it hanging there in the air as she rounded a corner and came to an open doorway - candlelight flickering in the darkness beyond - so different from the airy rooms she'd been catching glimpses of on her journey.

"Xena." It was almost a bark of laughter, and it made the hair on the back of her neck stand up.

Still. She stepped forward. Immediately engulfed by the blackness - the candles not offering enough light for her eyes to adjust easily. The door swung shut.

How typical.

Only, once her eyes did adjust, the scene before her was anything but typical and the tingle running down her spine was cold. "Ares."

His back was to her. Half sprawled, half hunched over on the floor, was the God of War; shoulders heaving in what she hoped was still laughter.

Slowly, Xena made her way through the darkness. There was debris littering the floor. It looked like he'd half torn up the place. Weapons ripped from shelves, tables upturned. She was going to make some joke about him having a hissy fit, but then he turned.

It was the look in his eyes that stopped her. Xena didn't think she'd ever seen such anguish on such an exquisitely immortal face. She almost thought she could see winkles and lines from his time as a mortal. It made her wince.

He was watching her. Waiting to see what she had come to say or do. There was something so defeated in that look, in the slouch of his body. As if he didn't even have the heart to throw her out. Sinking to her knees a few feet away from him, Xena tried again, softer, "Ares..." She wasn't sure what else to say. It didn't even feel like him.

"They're all in so much pain. There's pain and death and blood everywhere. How do you go on through so much pain? How can I do my job," and then he was up in a sharp, wickedly fast movement, and another table was flying to crash against a far-off wall, "How can I do my job, when all it does is cause pain?"

Now she could see it. The small portal scanning through battle scenes. She remembered it being mounted in an ornate frame, but now it was lying tilted against an overturned couch. Ares was still ranting.

"I can feel it, you know. Each one of them that I send off to their deaths, I can feel them dying, everywhere. I never-" the sentence was choked off before he tried again, "I never knew it could hurt so much."

His eyes were accusing the world, but it was Xena that felt the acute rush of guilt that she knew was coming. This was her responsibility, her fault. And still, she didn't know what she was supposed to say to make it better. Didn't know how to take away that horrible look of pain in his eyes.

"It never used to feel like this, you know." She couldn't tell if he was talking to her or to himself. "I never used to feel anything." There was that disturbing bark of laughter again. "Well, except for you."

The worst part was that he wasn't just saying this to hurt her; this wasn't some misplaced banter. She could tell that he meant every word. "Ares, I-"

"And look where that got me."

Xena couldn't help the wince that came. This time, she avoided his name. "I didn't realize things had gotten so... I'm sorry about this."

Before she could blink, he was right there, staring into her eyes with the same intensity that he always possessed. Face twisted into a sneer. "You're 'sorry?'" Just as quickly, he was up, moving in an almost staggering spin around the room, lights springing up in his wake. "Xena, Xena, Xena." It was almost cordial, joking, the way he said her name. "You don't understand." And the last was anything but.

He was circling her now. "I was mortal! I'd accepted it. And then you barge in and flip my world upside down, again. And now there are all these pesky feelings... mortal feelings... bouncing around in my head. And I'm supposed to sit here, God of War, and crush entire armies when I can hear their screams and feel their blood running through my hands."

Xena jumped up, mindful of the mess around her, mindful of him, the predatory way he'd shifted into almost stalking her. "And what was I supposed to do? Let the whole world suffer because you can't hack it at your job anymore?"

It was harsh, but he needed harsh, or else she wouldn't be here.

He stopped. And Xena had to remind herself not to hold her breath. "Aphrodite bring you?"

He was looking at her now, and Xena held his gaze. It was... different. "Yes."

"She thinks I'm going crazy, you know."

"I know."

"Hmm." Maybe he'd run out of words to express things mortal words weren't meant to convey.

Now that the room was well lit, Xena took in the upheaval out of the corner of her eye. "Been redecorating?"

"Oh, that?" A wave of his wrist and everything was in its place again. It made her dizzy. "Just trying to give the old place a bit of life."

Xena walked over to the restored portal, brushing her fingers lightly along its ornate silver frame. "I never thought I'd say this but... the world needs you, Ares."

His voice was a harsh whisper in her ear. "Then why didn't you come with me?"

"Ares, I-" shook her head in an attempt to shake off his wandering hands, "it wouldn't change anything."

Instead of letting go, he spun her around in his arms, locking them to keep her there. "No. It wouldn't change anything. I gave up my _lives_ for you, Xena. I gave up my godhood, and I gave up my humanity. And now what am I? Alone in a palace that was meant for gods. No. It wouldn't change anything."

There was that accusation again. "I can't be a goddess, Ares. I shouldn't have that power."

"And neither should I."

Carefully, cautious of him going off again, Xena set her hands over his arms. Gently pressed her fingertips to his skin. "Look... Ares..." She hoped he could see her feelings in her eyes, "we both have our responsibilities... but you don't need to be all cooped up in here. Maybe," she couldn't believe she was saying this, but the anguish and foolish hope in his eyes gave everything a new perspective, "maybe we could go somewhere for a few days. Take a little break and sort ourselves out."

"It won't stop hurting." But his grip loosened and he pulled her closer.

"Life hurts. Didn't you say that? Why should immortality be any different?" Sliding out of his grasp, grabbing his hand, Xena slowly led him toward the doorway, away from the portal of pictures that seemed to be never-ending. "Just... Just focus on me right now."

Eyes still searching hers, Ares let out a sigh, less defeated than before, and allowed her to lead him. "When have I not?"

Rethinking the long, quiet hallway, Xena offered a small smile. "Hey, whaddya say we use some of those godly perks and get out of here? I'm thinking... someplace..." far away from everyone else, "by the water?"

Was there really a right place to nudge the God of War back towards sanity? Oh, Gabrielle was gonna love this. Tartarus, what was she thinking? They'd kill each other before they'd relax.

The grip on her hand tightened, pulling her knuckles up to his lips for a kiss, like he used to, long ago. "Your wish is my command."

It didn't have quite the same inflection, but it was something. It made Xena realize that he'd never asked her why she'd come. He'd needed her. And, after everything, how could she not come?

The aether swirled around them, masking the dark room and the empty palace beyond. And in just a moment, they flashed out of existence.


	20. Escapes

_Escapes. 460. PG-13. October 11, 2009 - October 23, 2010._

Even in her wildest dreams, she would never have considered imagining something like this.

Even in his most outlandish fantasies, he never would have dared plotting something like this.

And yet, sun streaming down hard and bright, there they were. Cool breeze whispering through the far trees, waves crashing delicately against gleaming sand. A perfect meeting of earth and water and sky, all brilliantly bathed in sunlight.

The perfect in-between - an escape from two worlds as different as the sand and sea.

Xena turned towards him, opening one eye lazily and giving him her patented half-smirk. "We're supposed to be relaxing."

"You were sleeping," Ares accused back.

Shrugging, Xena turned her eyes towards the horizon, quickly scanning the beach populace for something of interest. "Whatever you're looking for, it's not here. I'm pretty sure this is the most peaceful beach on the face of the Aegean."

If she sounded disappointed, it was because she was. Sure enough there were people milling about, from peasants to warlords, and nobody was paying the other any mind at all. This area had been deemed weapons off limits (not that it had stopped the two of them), and so far appeared to be living up to its name. A virtual Elysian Field, just as advertised.

Among the sunlit throngs, sprawled out on the beach, the God of War and Warrior Princess could have been anyone. Pile of leathers and weapons aside, of course.

Xena could hear his grumble at the thought. Her own feelings about this enforced vacation aside, watching Ares squirm at the thought of relaxing was almost worth it. Almost.

Playing up his misery for all it was worth, Ares tightened his arm around her. "How can any place be so boring?"

Habitually scanning the horizon for some unseen threat, Xena shrugged, "It could be worse." She hoped her tone was convincing. 

With a chuckle, Ares cupped her chin in his hand and turned her head to face him. "Want to make it more interesting?"

"For the hundredth time, Ares, we can't kill anyone. It defeats the purpose-" he cut off her protests with a playful kiss.

A playful kiss that was quickly becoming heated. Xena's eyes flashed fire, but it was more amused than anything, and Ares took that as his cue to drag her on top of him. Breathless, hands running along tanned bodies, waves lapping at their feet. The hot press of sand under their legs.

She laughed, leaping up, agilely avoiding his protesting grasp, heading towards the water. Her white shift a blinding beacon as she cut through the waves, calling out something that was surely an insult. Ares hurried to give chase.

In that moment, they could have been anyone. Two lovers, basking in the Aegean.


	21. Interlude

_Interlude. 480. PG-13. October 23, 2010._

The second he appeared, she ran him through. "You have a lot of nerve, showing up here."

He glanced down at the sword protruding through his chest, followed the length of it with his eyes to her hand and continued, until his eyes were locked with hers, torn between amusement and irritation.

There was no indecisiveness on her part. Wanting to shake the feel of his eyes, almost as palpable as a touch, Xena yanked her sword back and prepared to run him through again.

His hand caught her wrist, stopping the thrust of her sword in a steely grip. "Would you give me a chance to explain?"

"Explain what? What a cold-hearted bastard you are? I already knew that." She wanted him to stop touching her. To stop reminding her of other, softer, grips and easier moments. To stop interrupting her world.

Now his eyes flashed anger, but only for a second. His grip didn't waver. "Xena-"

The sound of her name, the softness in his voice as he said it, stung. "No. See, I knew better than to trust you."

With a vicious twist, she yanked her hand free, and took a step back so that she was out of his reach.

Ares opened his mouth, but the set of her jaw stopped him.

They stood there, frozen, for a long time. The gulf between them was icy, palpable - larger by far than the few feet of field that separated them.

After a long moment, Xena turned. A soft, disappointed shake of her head and a resigned slump to her shoulders as she sheathed her sword and moved to leave the clearing. It was too late for apologies anyway, not that he'd offer any, too late for them.

"After everything that happened," a pause, the unspoken _between us_ ringing clear in the silence, "I can't believe you'd think that of me." His voice was equal parts sad and frustrated against her ear.

He was right behind her. Xena could feel the electric sparks between their bodies, only inches away. She stopped. Waited. "What am I supposed to think, Ares?"

Her anger was deflating, defeated by the hurt and accusation in his tone that had mimicked hers. Xena could feel his hand reaching out, about to touch her cheek. A sigh. "Believe what you want."

His fingers just brushed her skin, and then, as she spun around - either to kiss him or hit him, she wasn't sure - he was gone.

While the suddenness of his arrival had sparked her unmitigated fury, now that he was gone, for just a moment, Xena wished she'd let him explain. Wished that there had been anything he could have said that would have made any difference.

Shoulders squared, she walked through the spot where he had just been. Murmured, "Just don't expect a warmer welcome next time I see you."


End file.
